


The one where Goro goes to Comiket.

by DucklingExtravaganza



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Comiket, Established Relationship, Everyone loves Yusuke, Fluff, Futaba is there buying doujinshi, Gay Character, Goro is being self deprecating, Intrusive Thoughts, Lesbian Character, M/M, Mentions of suggestive themes, Post Canon Divergence, Stream of Consciousness, Unrequited Crush, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 06:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20484617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DucklingExtravaganza/pseuds/DucklingExtravaganza
Summary: Futaba and Akira drag Goro to Comiket to buy doujinshi and all the good stuff. Goro is not convinced.Yusuke is also there, looking awfully handsome.





	The one where Goro goes to Comiket.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to all my betas who helped me put this together <3

Comiket was… _crowded._

Ironic in a way, that the paradise for socially awkward nerds who take baths once a year; eat, breathe and live anime is a massive convention full of what they hate most: _3D people._

Goro was tired of interacting with people all the time. It’s true that he had somewhat enjoyed his time as a detective celebrity, despite the machinations that went into getting him to that position, but what made it bearable were only certain specific aspects that sometimes came to pale in comparison to the torture that was being a secret introvert in extrovert idol world. 

That was, of course, the way Goro used to crave approval from anyone that would throw it to him like a hooker craves spare crack cocaine. He did so much for that sweet, sweet validation, too, and he basically lost his whole self to the role of “pleasant boy.” 

He was getting better now, and enjoying himself much more in general, not having to contain some occasional nihilistic commentary and constant cursing in casual conversation did wonders for his mental health, despite what any health professional would tell him. 

He still craved attention, he was getting better, all that effort was paying off, yes. Goro knew that that urge would always be there, he learned that it was inherent to his brain since his mother died or since Shido refused to look at him in the face. Thanks, parents, for the trauma. But the process of healing also seems to include focusing his unquenchable thirst for attention, approval and validation in only one person: his boyfriend. 

Which was, coincidentally, the answer to the question _“just why do I do these things to myself?”_ that Goro asked himself internally for the third time when some random otaku approached him and claimed with his sweaty otaku mouth, “Woah! A Goro Akechi cosplayer! Nice! it’s kinda niche, but you do it really well, almost like the real one. Mhm. I wonder what the real one is up to these days.” 

_This. _

Goro never felt particularly bad about murder, honestly; he wasn’t a violent sociopath who bathed in the blood of virgins to maintain the beauty of his youth (his beauty was all natural), but society had never been kind to him, so he never understood why he couldn’t be cruel in return. Akira had sat him down and gave him a small class of ethics once after they’d been dating for about a month— from Aristotle to Locke to Camus— which was very informative but did nothing for Goro’s appreciation or humanity aside from an “Uh, I guess not everyone in the world is dumb as all fuck.” To this, Akira had responded “I’m going to consider that progress toward appreciating humanity! Hooray. You up for some celebration sushi?” 

Goro was, indeed, up for some— in his opinion undeserved— celebration sushi. Not much had come out of it but Akira seemed happy to share his obscure and mostly useless knowledge of ethics that nobody but him seemed to care about. He got all excited about Camus, Marx and Nietzsche; Goro hadn’t seen anything cuter in his short life. Akira’s smile was kitty-like, so he decided that he wanted to protect it forever. Maybe something good had come out of it. Goro made his moral and ethics making Akira this happy. Fuck what Plato had to say. 

They still had those little sessions from time to time. One reason was to let Akira get excited over philosophy, the other one was because more often than not they’d end up together in bed doing bed stuff (that ranged from eating Doritos to touching below the belt, it was a roulette). They had fun. 

And that was the reason Goro had been muttering to himself for about five minutes “Akira would be upset, Akira would be upset, Akira would be up-” and containing the mighty urge to just take out a gun and shoot the next asshole who pulled at his hair suddenly to ask in the most idiotic voice Goro had ever heard: “Hey is this a wig or real hair?” 

“It’s real, thank you very much.” 

“Cool.” Then went to fuck off somewhere else. Good. For him. Goro was so fucking close to go fuck it and go at it with anyone in stabbing range. So damn close. 

Divagations, divagations. Goro saw Futaba’s characteristic bottle redhead (not Futaba herself, Goro could only see Futaba’s hair so as far as he was concerned that was hair Futaba) heatedly discuss some dragon anime or another with a cosplayer. At least Goro wasn’t alone in being pissed as fuck. Good. Gremlin solidarity. 

Akira was nowhere to be seen, though, which made Goro a little bit very gravely upset. Akira had _dragged _Goro to this fucking thing and he was being an ass about it by not showing up and leaving Goro all alone. Goro’s refusal to let Akira’s jackassery stand had _nothing _to do with Goro feeling nervous and disgusting around the—more physically disgusting than morally disgusting, like Goro was—disgusting otaku, or how empty his hand felt all of a sudden, or how he just wanted to tell Akira to just go home and cuddle and fuck the rest of the afternoon away. _Absolutely not! _ Goro was trying to find Akira to call him out on his rude bullshit. 

_Goro abso-fucking-lutely despises people. _

“What are you doing?” Futaba spawned next to him, with the grace of Gizmo. She still had some bags in her hands but had left her other, heavier weights on the floor and had apparently made herself quite comfortable without Goro noticing.

Years of being a hitman helped Goro contain the appropriately manly scream in response to being surprised so abruptly in the middle of thought. He mentally kicked himself for not seeing her illustrious orange hair approaching from the crowd and being caught in a vulnerable position. But to be fair, he had been trying to be less paranoid lately.

“It’s a sign of trusting.” Akira had said. “Nobody is going to hurt you now, so you shouldn’t have to have your guard up all the time.” 

Damn healing and all it represents, Goro can’t afford to get distracted in the middle of Comiket if he doesn’t want the monster of the collective masses searching for anime porn to step all over him.

_Stepping all over me…anime porn… sounds kinky… wonder if Akira could be into that…_

“Hellooooo? Earth to Goro! Down here, tall ass!” _Oh, right, Futaba._

“Have you seen Akira?” Goro actually meant to greet her first:_ Good evening, sister-in-law, how do you do? Have thou not thrown hands with any costume players yet?_ Like an annoyed stuck up asshole who is definitely not having a good time, but it just kind of came out on his own. God, why is he so worried about Akira all the time. Maybe being gay makes you dumber.

“Woah, being gay makes you dumber.” Futaba added helpfully. 

“Yeah. You’d know. Have you seen him?” and to fix some things up: “Hello Futaba.” 

“Greetings to you too, brother-in-law, art thou having a good evening amidst the sweaty otaku?” smug and just what Goro was about to say— she had gotten better at reading Goro and that pissed him off so much in a way that didn’t make him want to actively kill her. It was more like wanting to mess her hair up or throw one of her dolls (“Figmas and nendos!” She would say) at her knowing, she would be able to dodge it or worse, retaliate. Is this siblingness? 

“Absolutely not. I am uncomfortable, sweaty, and want to go home.” _Be honest,_ the metaphorical ghost of Akira’s teaching told him, “and I want to fucking die.”

“Awesome. So do I. We’re staying here for the seiyuu event.” 

“Thanks Futaba.” _Task failed successfully,_ metaphorical ghost Akira commented.

“Hey, it’s not all that bad!” It was all that bad, but Goro appreciated her trying to cheer him up nonetheless. “Have you checked out the stands? There’s some really good stuff! Check _this_ out!” 

She searched around one of her bags and took out a booklet with a cover with colors so bright Goro was sure it would give him a seizure if he looked at it long enough. 

__Phoenix Ranger Featherman Victory  
GL parody  
“Lovebomb X! ♡”  
Parakeet/Argus  
R-18 

Goro was not amused. “Aren’t you a little too young to be reading this?” 

“Aren’t you a little too old to be alive? I’m 17 and have an Akira-approved fake ID, what did you bring to the table?” She was being smug again; too smug —in Goro’s opinion— to be shamelessly holding porn in the middle of a crowded hall.

“I’m 20 and practically going through menopause.”_ and still doing your brother every night _but that might have been too mean, maybe appropriate considering the topic, but too mean. “Did Akira really give you his approval?” 

“Yep! He gave me a gold star and said he was proud of his little sister for being gay, doing crime, and doing crime to be gay.” Oh, yeah, that sounded like Akira alright. Gay crime extravaganza himself. 

“Of course he did,” and then after a pause, “There’s no way Sojiro approves of illicit identity fraud though; how are you going to explain this clearly R-18 material if he ever came to find it?” 

Sojiro wasn’t going to question it, his dad capabilities didn’t go beyond confronting your daughter for reading porn, but Goro wanted to be mean. Maybe for the sake of the artist that could get in trouble if someone ever found out about Futaba’s crime. Not like someone would ever find out, but still.

“I am not! Because it’s your R-18 material now.” She said, rolling the doujinshi and quickly—but awkwardly— placing it in Goro’s front pocket. 

This was just too bizarre. “What?” 

“I’m not afraid of Sojiro, he's not the type to go around my stuff so I’m not worried. Now Makoto… Makoto scares me.” The name of the iron woman herself, the queen of spikes, the fourth most terrifying person Goro had ever met; and also their designated driver who was probably drinking boba tea nearby and waiting for their call to pick all of them up; sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Makoto scares me too, what’s your point?”_ If she finds out Futaba did something illegal she’s going to be in trouble because-_

“My point is! That Makoto has been taking her police studies, or whatever, WAY to seriously-“ _yep, there it is._

“And bothering all of us with that…” Goro_ hated _that Makoto was a police officer. He just didn’t understand why she would want to be by the pigs’ side when they had done so much damage to everyone. _“I’m going to make it better from the inside” _sure, sure; police culture was going to eat her alive then spit her out then swallow her again. Goro thought the hope was cute but ultimately naïve, and he absolutely hated how strict she was about it. Ew.

“Yes, and bothering all of us with that.” Futaba agreed with his point, he knew: Makoto was up to some dumb bullshit. “Anyway, when she comes here to pick us up and asks ‘hey guys what did you get?’ that’s where you come in and tell her ‘just some lesbian porn doujinshi, nothing else’ then smile like the fuckboy you are and we all go home and then you give it back to me tomorrow, cappicci?” She was trying to go for ‘Italian mafia’ level of threat but it just came out as ‘strawberry cupcake’ menacing. 

Futaba was practically brimming with excitement to pull this heist, it reminded Goro of their Phantom Thieves days, the stars shining in her eyes. It’d be a shame to break it to her.

“That’s not going to work.” Goro broke it to her.

The stars in her eyes broke into pieces. “Why not!?” 

“Makoto knows I’m not into women.” He stated as it was the most obvious thing— because it was. “I couldn’t be less interested in what girls do with their genitals when they’re alone or together.”

“What does it matter?” She took a stance and was ready to defend it. Goro could swear her demeanor was trying to imitate that of a spiky-haired lawyer. “I’m not into guys and also read BL religiously! It’s not that uncommon! If you don’t fuck up she’s going to believe you!” 

That seemed… reasonable enough. Goro still wasn’t willing to let the last of his pride go into telling Makoto that he was super into GL all of a sudden, but it was something he could pull off if he wanted to. Being a pathological liar came in handy for the weirdest of situations. 

“Fair point.” But if he can lie to Makoto then... “Why don’t you just hide it and lie to her?”

“Haha… about that…” she blushed and looked embarrassed for the first time since entering the conversation about lesbian porn._ This can’t be good… _“Well, I didn’t buy just that one, that would have been a waste. So I… haha…” Futaba carefully took the doujinshi that started the conversation out of Goro’s front pocket and flattened it out. She took a solemn sign and crouched down, taking the lid out of a black cardboard box that had apparently been there the whole time and storing the doujinshi there. 

_Has that always been there? _Goro thought, as Futaba closed the box and picked it up from the ground. She looked even more embarrassed with the box in her hands, as if she was ashamed of the contents. 

_Futaba? Ashamed of a box of doujinshi? Just how many…?_

She made a little pout and Goro understood it as her wanting to give the box to him. He stretched his arms out to revive it and-

_Holy shit. _

Goro almost collapsed to the ground. This stuff was _seriously _heavy. 

“Holy shit.” 

Was this all…?

“I can’t quite hide this many, you know?”

If Goro wasn’t about to lose all feeling in his arms he would find this situation quite hilarious. From detective prince sweetheart to holding a box full of GL doujinshi— most of it, if not all R-18– that his sisters-in-law had handed to him was the kind of stuff that he would laugh at in comedy animes. When it was happening to him though, it wasn’t nearly as funny. 

He took a deep breath and adjusted the weight. It wasn’t that heavy and he was fit enough to hold it properly, the loss of balance was mostly the shock of just how heavy a box full of doujinshi can get and how Futaba had been able to hold it for so long. What’s more, she probably had to carry it around the whole con hoping no one would notice the depravity that laid within.

“Futaba I’m not—“ but Futaba was nowhere to be seen.

_Fuck! _

Goro’s kill-o’-meter was reaching unexplored heights and he wondered briefly if a box full of papers would be considered a ‘blunt object’ in court when he used it to kill the next passerby who dared to breathe in an annoying way in his general direction when—

_Buzz! _

>   
His phone buzzed and Goro just knew who it was from. 
> 
> Alibaba: Thank you so much for taking care of it （＾∇＾）  
Alibaba: my arms were getting tired, oof (-.-;)y-~~~
> 
> Pancake butt: I hate you.
> 
> Pancake butt: Also, did you change my name again? 
> 
> Alibaba: lemme take care of that 
> 
> BIL who I love and adore ♥: ?
> 
> Alibaba: better? 
> 
> BIL who I love and adore ♥: Barely.
> 
> Alibaba: im doing my best! >_> 
> 
> Alibaba: im grateful you’re helping me!
> 
> Alibaba: accept my love, asshole ੧(❛□❛✿)
> 
> Feisty prince ♥: “Helping you”? I’m pretty certain you ran off without saying a thing.
> 
> Feisty prince ♥: What do you want me to do with this? 
> 
> Alibaba: mostly hold it till we group up again then take it to the car and then be in the car with it then give it back to me tmrrw
> 
> Alibaba: I’ll make it up to you! Promise! ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／
> 
> Feisty prince ♥: ...
> 
> Feisty prince ♥: Fine.
> 
> Alibaba: wait, really!? Σ('◉⌓◉’)
> 
> Feisty prince ♥: Yes, it’s not like I have any pride left anyway. 
> 
> Alibaba: mhm 
> 
> Alibaba: if you’re doing this bc of your self-deprecation thing that makes everyone uncomfortable then noooooo (´･Д･)」
> 
> Alibaba: but if you’re doing this bc you want to be a good brother 2 me then yaaaaay ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
> 
> Feisty prince ♥: Does it even matter? 
> 
> Alibaba: YES IT DOES 
> 
> Alibaba: but idk u as well as Akira does to tell ngggghhhh 
> 
> Feisty prince ♥: Let’s leave it at that, then. 
> 
> Alibaba: your an ass but ilysm m(__)m
> 
> Alibaba: here, so you don’t suffer as much
> 
> Alibaba: [sent you a location]
> 
> Alibaba: theres some stuff there you might like ;)))))))
> 
> Feisty prince ♥: K.
> 
> Alibaba: so cold!!! (;o;)  


Goro’s rage had mostly died off by then. He wasn’t angry, he was just tired. He felt disgusting and awkward and wanted to go home with Akira and take a nap and wake up next to him and stop being alone so much despite being surrounded by so many people.

He’d accepted Futaba’s request because he had run out of the energy to deny anything by that point and he felt like death, or a low mood was coming to get him. Being in the middle of a crowd depressed him to no end. 

And Futaba hadn’t even told him where Akira was; the cherry on top of his misery. 

He found the nearest wall and laid against it trying to organize his thoughts a little. Goro sat down and left the box to his side, sighing in defeat. 

He felt his social battery nearing zero percent; he was just so, so tired. If he could go find Akira right now he could tell him he wanted to go home and Akira would understand. He always did. He imagined Akira driving them both home, Goro in the passenger’s seat with his hand on Akira’s thigh, or maybe Akira would drive with only one hand and hold Goro’s own with the other. Goro wanted to get to the attic and kiss Akira senseless with the little energy he had left, so Akira would tell him ‘I love you’ and ‘I like being with you’ and ‘I’m sorry for leaving you alone, I won’t do it again’. Because even when the whole world was next to him, the hole in Goro’s chest that made him feel so alone only got filled when he was with Akira. When Akira was with him he was never alone. They could take a nap together after that, still holding hands, and wake up with lazy kisses or with Akira nipping at his neck. A warm feeling overcame Goro’s chest. 

Akira, Akira, Akira.

Cheesy, but it helped Goro calm down. Things were going to be fine, he shouldn’t feel so numb when Futaba and Akira brought him here to have a good time. Maybe he could find something to do. 

The location Futaba had given him was a good start. He would never say it out loud for fear of killing Futaba from ego overdose but she did have a good taste in not just anime, but manga, games and books, too. Goro had consumed every piece of media Futaba had recommended with the thirst of a man who hadn’t seen a glass of water in years; that is to say, he had watched every anime his in-law had recommended in less than 3 days total and ignored a ton of responsibilities and any recommended amount of sleep. 

He had no doubt that whatever Futaba was leading him to was something he would enjoy, his pride consumed him from head to toe and screamed how going anywhere Futaba recommended would be to kick himself in the face after being knocked down, but he had empirical evidence to believe going there— wherever “there” was— would be the best course of action. 

Time to stop being a whiny little bitch and have some fun! Goro grabbed the black box and-

Ah, that’s right, he would have to do something about the porn box.

He couldn’t leave it here to the poor soul that was going to be corrupted by the depravity of Futaba’s kinks which—okay, no, everyone here was somehow, in a way Goro refused to think about too deeply for fear of mentally scarring himself forever— more kinky than Futaba. But she was definitely going to kill him if he left what was probably worth a small country in just doujinshi. Goro was no expert (thank god) but he knew this stuff could get expensive. 

Carrying the box around would also be weird. After the initial shock passed and Goro realized that the box was heavier than any box full paper should be but not heavier than, say, carrying Akira around bridal-style; so he had no problem physically moving it from one side of Comiket to the other. One of Goro’s pride and joys was never skipping leg day OR arm day, he could pull this off.

Now the moral implications of a gay man carrying around a box of lesbian porn were… less than charming? More confusing than anything else. Goro’s biggest fear was that someone would think he was a pervert, or straight, or a straight pervert. 

Agh, maybe one of Akira’s cute ethics classes had the answer to if it was morally reprehensible for Goro to be doing anything at all. Philosophers certainly seemed to think they had all the answers, but could Aristotle tell Goro if he should just fuck off and throw himself from the edge of earth? 

But no, the box was black and nobody would know—_nobody but Makoto when she wants to take a look,_ his subconscious added helpfully— what hid within. So he was safe at least in that regard. Nobody would think he was a straight pervert at first glance, thank god. 

The earth, that wasn’t flat, by the way, and therefore didn’t have an edge to commit suicide in, has been saved once again. 

Before getting lost in the irony of being afraid of people assuming he was straight when he spent so long sweating bullets in live TV with the ever-lingering fear that some show host with psychic powers would call out his orientation live in front of the whole country—a dream as unrealistic, terrifying and recurring as being naked in school— he shook his head and headed to wherever Futaba had pointed, GL box in hand, and walked with the furious determination to have a good time or die trying. Probably the latter, with “stomped to death” or “suffocation” as the cause. 

“Comiket” as the hot, new and official cause of death in the police records. 

_Keep walking and stop thinking about death, Goro Akechi, he told himself. Or Akira or Futaba or the pervert box, you are perfectly capable of having a good time on your own even if you probably smell like leftover pizza that has been in the sun for two days. Nobody has to know how you get sweaty just from walking a little bit, that was only ONE time and you spent a like a week without sleeping thinking why the fuck did you say something so dumb and still cringe about it randomly sometimes. And for the love of God don’t think about Yusuke who is right there, just don’t think about him, don’t even look at him. _

Right, right, don’t think about Yusuke even if his tall ass is sticking out like a sore thumb. 

_Wait._

Was that even Yusuke? He had to be right? How many people who were six feet tall, naturally blue-haired, lanky yet handsome, and with a deeply tired but extremely attractive gaze could be roaming around in Japan? 

Goro thought that there were a lot because to be honest, stoners, handsome men and art students were circles that touched in the middle and made a perfect mold for Yusuke-types. Akira had laughed and said that yes, there were a lot of people similar to Yusuke in art school, but that_ his _Yusuke was unique. Goro had cringed at the moment thinking about Akira thinking of anyone as_ his _but him. He was aware that Akira had meant it in a friendly way. Yusuke was as much Akira’s Yusuke as he was Goro’s, Futaba’s or the Phantom Thieves’. It still hurt a little; and then it hurt that it hurt because it felt like distrusting Akira.

In any case, there was only one way to confirm this was Goro’s Yusuke (or Makoto’s, or Morgana’s, et cetera’s). Maybe he knew something about Akira’s whereabouts, for some reason, or maybe Goro didn’t want to be alone in a place that felt more and more foreign the more he stayed in it. Goro dialed his phone. 

_Riiiing… Riiiing…_

Aaaaaand— yes! The now-not-a-stranger, but actual, real life Yusuke picked up nonchalantly and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” He asked. 

“...” 

“Akechi? What happened?” 

_I didn’t think of anything to say. _

“Akechi? Ah, perhaps you called by accident?”

_Pretend it was an accident! Quick! _

“I’m going to hang now, if you don’t mind.” 

“Yeah, sorry, it was an accident, haha…” 

_WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? _

“I see… then I suppose there is nothing you want to talk about?”

“Uh… no… just checking on you.”

“Checking on me? I thought it was an accidental call?” 

“It is! I mean- fuck, sorry, I’m-”_ Be honest, _metaphorical Akira said for the second time in the day. To be fair, Yusuke was a weirdo and probably wouldn’t judge Goro for his brain short-circuiting in the heavy air of the con. Goro was ready to go on to be a more healthy human being who communicated his feelings and tell Yusuke just what had happened but-

“Akechi, wait a second.” Yusuke locked eyes with real, non-phone Goro, then quickly returned to his phone call.

_Shit! _Metaphorical ghost Akira cursed inside of him but Goro felt glad Yusuke had unintentionally found a way to preserve Goro’s pride, even if slightly. And weirdly. 

“I don’t know if I have told you this, but I am currently at Comiket”

_You don’t say. _Goro wanted to say, rudely. 

“Is that so?” He said, politely and with contained rage.

“Yes, and I think I see someone dressed as you.” 

Suddenly he wasn’t so glad. He felt dread, actually. 

“Ah, about that-” 

“Cosplay is also a form of art in and on itself. The passion needed to take on the role of a loved character and embody them is admirable and should not be looked down upon. The art comes from the feelings deep within the person and the expression of them through making the costume or simply wearing it to show the world how much connection you have to a fictional universe is simply what must mean to truly love.” 

“Uh-huh. Well you see—” 

“This cosplayer, however, looks tired. Like he has been dragged here without his consent and has spent the afternoon sulking around without buying anything. He seems to have a box in his hand but by the careless way he holds it it’s easy to tell that it’s not his. Maybe a girlfriend dragged him here and is making him carry her stuff? I feel bad, yet admire his soul; destroying the name of cosplay out of love, maybe his girlfriend was one of your fans and that’s why he’s dressed as such. The consensual affair with a man outside of her reach. I haven’t heard about detective prince fans in a long while. Although I—” 

_Sad, true and weirdly accurate. That’s Yusuke. Maybe he should be the detective. _

“It’s me.” 

“Uh?” 

“The cosplayer, I’m him. I mean- Yusuke you’re looking at me.”

“Oh, I see.” He put the phone down for a second to focus his complete attention in analyzing Goro up and down from where he was standing. “Akechi, you look terrible.” 

“Thanks.”

“I don’t mean to offend you. You just look…” Goro could appreciate Yusuke trying not to be rude and making an effort to find a soft way of saying saying “you look like shit.” There wasn’t any other way to describe it but it’s the thought that counts. 

“Like I’ve been dragged here without my consent and have been sulking around like a ghost all day? Yeah.” 

“Exactly.” Yusuke looked at him with pity from across the hallway. Goro hated that. He understood on a reasonable level that a stare of pity was a natural reaction to seeing him so miserable, but another —more monkey part of his brain, admittedly, that seemed to have taken control over him recently— was mad as hell about being looked down upon. 

He was about to give Yusuke a piece of his— very tired and low-functioning, so probably a bad idea— mind until Yusuke, like a six feet tall angel, opened his mouth and pronounced the words that sounded like holy music to Goro’s ears: “Do you want to go outside?” 

Goro positively wanted that.

“Yes.”

Goro was going to marry the fuck out of Yusuke, he’d decided. Not only did Yusuke walk out of the line to buy… whatever he was buying, Goro hadn’t asked and sincerely didn’t care about whatever the artist was up to, but also escorted him out of the suffocating inside to the much refreshing, even if still as crowded, outside of the con.

What’s more, Yusuke had bottled water and had been kind enough to share with Goro who hadn’t noticed how thirsty he was until he was blinded by the bright afternoon sun and the subtle reminder that he had decided to wear his winter work clothes because it was cold as hell in the morning, unlike the current blazing human heat. 

He had also found out that Yusuke was awfully cold in a way that was kind of amazing. While Yusuke fidgeted with his blank phone idly and mildly disappointed, Goro came to discover that Goemon’s powers weren’t just for show because sitting next to Yusuke was the polar opposite of sitting next to a fireplace on a cold winter night, but just as satisfying. 

Watching cosplayers form a respectful distance with Yusuke wasn’t something Goro ever thought he would be doing, but right now he wanted nothing more than to hug his six feet tall block of ice of a friend and maybe elope with him to a foreign land where otaku, weebs, and gremlin sisters-in-law were prohibited. 

Speaking of which… “You’re with Futaba and Akira, aren’t you?” 

Goro finished his bottle of water “Yes, they must still be inside.” 

Yusuke seemed pensive “Is that box Futaba’s?” 

_Ever the detective._ “Yes, actually. How did you know?” 

“I’ve seen that exact same box in Futaba’s room before. It has been in the background to some of my paintings, even.” 

Oh, right, Yusuke and Futaba had a thing going on, kind of. ‘Thing’ in the sense that they were both super gay but also spent every living second with each other, Yusuke could paint Futaba whenever with full consent (it stoked her ego), Futaba was going to move in with Yusuke next year when she went to college and they definitely would have gotten lavender married if either of them had homophobic parents to lie to—_Don’t be so cruel! Bad Akechi!_. Futaba’s room also had AC and a secret mini fridge for snacks so it was no wonder Yusuke spent a lot of time there. He was low maintenance, didn’t need much attention, and would follow you to the end of time if you gave him food. 

They made the perfect couple (of besties).

Which made it even weirder that Yusuke hadn’t come with them in Makoto’s car to the con. Surely Futaba would have told him something? 

He tapped Yusuke’s shoulder to get his attention. “I don’t mean to be rude, but how did you get here?” 

“I used the public transportation, though I did walk most of the way as to save money.”

_Who does that? _

But it had been a long while since Goro had been completely broke, so he didn’t want to assume he knew something Yusuke didn’t. Living without a penny is hard and makes people do unconventional things to save money. Goro knew, he still marked everything he owned with an ‘A’ for the irrational fear of other orphaned kids or his foster-siblings taking them away from him, it’s the kind of thing that sticks. 

“Futaba, Akira and me came with Makoto. Didn’t Futaba tell you?” Goro noticed how this was about to turn into an interrogation. He liked interrogations though, his guilty pleasure and a way to feel in control of a situation. He just felt bad it was Yusuke who was on the receiving end.

Yusuke didn’t seem too bothered, though, from what Goro could see. “Yes she did, we were supposed to meet up. Our schedules didn’t align for me to go with you in the morning, I arrived here after it opened.” And saved himself from the eternal queue, somehow, the way Yusuke moved was a true mystery. Not very valid as a testimony, but Goro took it as the whole truth.

“Do you know where she is now?” Goro asked, like a detective. 

“That I do not know.” Yusuke responded, like criminals do when they completely know.

Goro tilted his head. “And why is that?”

Yusuke continued “We were supposed to decide on where to meet after twelve. Tragically, as destiny would have it, I forgot to charge my phone last night and I don’t have money to buy a replacement charger or use the outlets available. I contacted her before entering so she knows I’m here, but that last call between you and I completely drained the scarce amount of battery I had left.” 

_Ouch, _Goro now felt guilty about that, too. _Do you ever do anything BESIDES being the embodiment of poison? _

Yusuke paused for a moment and took a deep breath. His made a grim expression at the miserable reminder of his lack of funding, “I’ve been making enough money from commissions to buy some things here and there, but now I must face that I completely drained it. I try not to be careless with spending, but the artists gathered here are all masters of the craft; not to mention how underrated popular art can be in modern society. If one puts his feelings in a canvas, no matter the medium or subject, it’s art worth appreciating. But it seems my savings dictate the limit on how much I can appreciate the artists who make it to this display because I don’t have enough money to go back home or eat any kind of food.” 

Yusuke’s stomach grumbled, appropriately. 

Goro found himself reaching for his pocket before he could think. It’s not like he was specially wealthy, but just now Yusuke’s mostly nonsensical rambling had awakened an urge inside of him he hadn’t felt since… this morning when he woke up and looked at Akira’s face next to his, in bed.

_Holy shit. I need to protect him. _

The words about to leave Goro’s mouth helped him realize just how hungry he was, too. Being tired used up a lot of energy. “Do you want to go to the food court?” 

It was Yusuke’s turn to look at Goro like he was a holy being descended directly from the first circle of heaven. 

“Yes.”

The food court was surprisingly nice for what it was. Plus, it was refreshing having a cup of Starbucks without his companion(s) openly judging him. 

That was mostly his own fault, Goro supposed; he mainly hung out with coffee junkies who lived in a café and probably pumped coffee directly into their bloodstream whenever they could. 

Goro had read a ton of books about coffee in a desperate attempt to inconspicuously flirt with Akira in the crush stage of their relationships, where Goro still had to lie about sitting for hours straight at LeBlanc waiting for Akira to arrive, just to immediately leave afterwards out of pure awkwardness and his complete lack of knowledge about just what to do in social interactions. He had memorized every piece of coffee trivia he could find to make good conversation for that same reason; but Akira, somehow, always seemed to surpass Goro’s coffee knowledge. At one point Goro thought that Akira must have been making some of the facts up; but every time he fact checked on his phone, Akira’s accuracy was corroborated. Eventually, Goro started to doubt the internet itself, because there was just no way any human being was so obsessed with coffee.

Another unburned Alexandria of coffee was Futaba, who was more about the chemical composition of the beans, whereas Akira was more about the history of them. She also gave Goro a run for his money when it came to discussion about caffeinated beverages.

Sojiro was the coffee god, there isn’t much more to say about him. If it was related to coffee, Sojiro knew all about it no exception. 

They three had threatened to disinherit Goro if he ever mentioned Starbucks in their sacred house of real coffee ever again.

Goro wasn’t dumb. He knew Starbucks sucked; it was overpriced, the sugar wasn’t real, it was the cusp of capitalism and the meeting place of the commercialization of any rebel action against the system. He still drank his fake coffee with pride. 

The coffee was_ bad_, but it was good. It was good because Goro enjoyed pumpkin spice latte and he liked to take pictures of it before drinking it and publishing them on Instagram. It tasted good and even if Akira insisted he could make something ten times better at LeBlanc— which was no doubt true— but this was a nice change of peace.

Yusuke didn't seem to mind Goro’s shit taste in coffee— oh, how Haru would laugh at that one—; he was too focused on eating takoyaki. 

The way Yusuke ate, like a desperate man who has known hunger for way too long, was adorable; Goro thought as he sipped his caramel macchiato and felt the moral superiority of overpriced fake caramel flavoring caress his tongue. 

“By the way,” said Yusuke after a particularly delicious bite of takoyaki “where is Akira?” 

“I…” Goro thought about it for a second— where_ was_ Akira? This whole ordeal had started because of him, and Goro had hardly seen him after entering the con. “I don’t know, we got separated at some point and I haven’t seen him since.”

_I really miss him,_ Goro wanted to add, but he still had some pride to spare. Not that Yusuke would mind him being cheesy about his boyfriend— they rarely spend time apart and are very physically close, much to everyone else’s dismay— but it didn’t feel like the kind of information he would share lightly. Maybe the Starbucks-brand fake dignity was having effect.

“Have you tried calling him?” Yusuke asked, when he finished his meal.

“It’s the first thing I tried. He doesn’t pick up.” Goro wasn’t dumb enough to not have tried that; Akira seemed to have disappeared from the surface of earth.

“What about Futaba? They could be together.”

Goro reminiscenced about his encounter with Futaba, their mostly senseless and very illegal conversation, and the black cardboard box currently sitting on the floor next to his legs. “I don’t think they are. I’m pretty sure Futaba is doing her own thing.” 

“Can I use your phone, then? I would still like to meet up with her if it’s possible.” Oh yeah, Yusuke had friends other than Goro that needed his attention. Goro tried not to take it as a personal offense or that Yusuke hated spending time with him. 

He remembered “trust and attachment issues” written in his therapist’s clipboard.

_How embarrassing, _and when he was doing so well on his own, but his traitorous brain seemed to pump intrusive thoughts nonstop at the most awkward of situations.

“Not everyone hates you, Goro.” the voice of Akira, and his therapist, and Futaba, and himself resonated in his head. He could do this. 

“Sure.” He said, and was embarrassingly proud when it didn’t sound petty.

Goro didn’t like other people touching his stuff— just years of being stuck in Japan’s foster-care system things— but it’s not like he thought Yusuke would get curious the moment Goro turned his back to him and explored his photo gallery (food pictures, nudes, Akira and Morgana) or his chats (full paragraphs of deep philosophical conversation and occasional sexting). 

Yusuke took the phone and dialed Futaba.

She answered after three rings. “You already said that you would do it, so no take backs now!”

“Hello Futaba.” Yusuke said calmly. Goro envied him for his ability to keep up with Futaba’s shenanigans; Yusuke didn’t even seem impressed at the rude greeting. Eccentrics understood each other, it seemed. 

“Inari?” She grumbled a little “Inari! What are you-?” She made an ‘I’m organizing my thoughts’ noise and brusquely cut the call.

_Well, that was unsuccessful. _

Goro was about to tell Yusuke that they should give up and maybe make out because Goro was feeling awfully lonely and 98% sure Akira would not only approve of them making out, but also be very into it if they did— the other 2% was that he would be just mildly into it—; but, predictively and just like everything else this day, things didn’t go Goro’s way and his phone buzzed with a text message from Futaba that Yusuke promptly showed him.

> Alibaba: you know!!! I dont like phone calls!!! (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾
> 
> Alibaba: they stress me out;;;;
> 
> Alibaba: texting is waaaay better ^^ 
> 
> Alibaba: anyway
> 
> Alibaba: inari sup? Why didn’t you call me? 
> 
> Inari (?): I lost my charger u_u
> 
> Alibaba: oh yeah that makes sense 
> 
> Alibaba: are u w/ Goro?
> 
> Inari (!): yes 
> 
> Alibaba: tell him not to look (ﾟωﾟ)  


Yusuke locked eyes with Goro for a moment. It was an awkward situation, after all. This was Goro’s phone and there was no way Yusuke texting Futaba while Goro sat there drinking coffee bitterly wouldn’t be rude, but, alas, Goro didn’t want to deny Yusuke the chance of doing what he came here to do. With a magnanimous effort, he put his so familiar ‘pleasant boy’ mask on for the first time in a long while and conceded. “Go ahead.”

Yusuke looked grateful that he didn’t have to ask verbally for permission to leave Goro alone and returned to the phone, not letting him see the screen this time.

And as expected, Goro sat there with his coffee cup in hand, while Yusuke used his phone to arrange a new meeting spot with Futaba and chuckled occasionally, most definitely at some Futaba shenanigan or inside joke they shared. 

They must be having fun, it must be great to have close friends who are not your boyfriend, it must be great to have more than one friend at all, period. Don’t be bitter, Goro.

The fake caramel syrup in the coffee tasted less sweet this time. 

But before Goro’s train of thought could derail into alarmingly self-flagellating territory, Yusuke spoke up. “Futaba asks if you’ve gone to ‘that place’ already.”

“‘That place’...?” Goro tried to recall anything that had happened today that didn’t involve him going back to his sea of jealousy at something as simple as other people having close friends “Mhm, yes, Futaba sent me a location before. That must be it.” 

Yusuke texted something else “Yes, I have the location right here. She tells us to meet up there so we can regroup.” 

Well... Goro wasn’t so hot for that idea. He felt quite comfortable in the food court, to be honest. It was the relative peace and quiet that he hadn’t found anywhere else today. A comfortable drowsiness had overcome his body and leaving his chair didn’t seem worth it for anything else anymore.

“She also says Akira will be there.” 

_Never mind! _Hearing Akira’s name sent a rush of serotonin in his brain that he would be too embarrassed to explain to himself or others. _Wake up, get up, get out there. _

Goro got up from the chair, and shortly thereafter, Yusuke followed. They both gathered their respective things— and Futaba’s damned cardboard box— and were ready to face the crowded doujinshi market full of human contact once again. 

Except- 

“Goro.” Yusuke called Goro’s attention. He didn’t say anything else, weirdly, and Goro thought he may have imagined it but-

Yusuke was offering his hand to him.

And Goro was supposed to take it, to hold Yusuke’s hand and venture inside. 

“Ah.” _As not to get lost, _a more rational voice called in his head, _it’s a perfectly normal safety precaution, stop feeling this way. _

Goro grabbed Yusuke’s hand, then. It was cold, comfortably so, and especially in the heat. 

Goro tried to think about his boyfriend desperately, about his smile and his laugh and the way he would make his heart do little jumps whenever he looked his way. That was nice.

But this was nice, too. 

They both exited the food court towards their destination, Goro trying to ignore how hard he was holding Yusuke’s hand. Hard enough to hurt, but not enough for Yusuke—young, sweet, darling, polite Yusuke— to complain.

Finding their way back in wasn’t as hard as the first time around, at least from Goro’s perspective. Maybe because he probably, most likely, definitely spent the whole walk semi-dissociating in deep thought about his own feelings and about how cold the hand Yusuke was holding was in comparison to the rest of his body. 

But Yusuke was holding Goro’s phone with the GPS that marked the location they had to go to and they were going the right way so Goro didn’t have anything to worry about. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel bothered by his acquaintance— _now friend? When is that territory trespassed, exactly?_— holding the phone that stored so many dirty secrets in it. 

Being guided felt like floating, somewhat, he’d never say out loud how much he liked for other people to take control of the situation when he simply wasn’t feeling like it. Only Akira knew, and for entirely different reasons. 

_Akira._

God, a wave of guilt hit Goro like the tide of his own consciousness. What would Akira say? He would be mad, he would definitely be mad if Goro were to tell him how he felt about Yusuke right now. Goro who had promised to love Akira forever, time and time again, and yet- but no, Goro’s cognitive Akira was different than real life Akira. Real Akira was forgiving and would understand, and would laugh softly at Goro losing his mind over something as small of a tiny crush on his friend. Goro’s Akira, however, only gave Goro a disappointed face and a tired sigh. 

Goro was aware it was difficult to be with him, he hated to be reminded of it; he swore to try everyday to be the best version of himself that he could for Akira, but sometimes he looked so, so tired of dealing with all his bullshit. Goro was getting better, he really was, but the lingering consequences of his first 18 years would never leave him entirely and may be, in fact, the reason why he was dating Akira all along. Nobody else would have him.

“Remember the strategies we went over, Akechi-kun.” Some voice in his head said. Was that Sae? His therapist? It sounded like a woman’s voice, but it could also have been the lady who took care of him in some particular orphanage. “Take a deep breath, organize your thoughts, stop feeling sorry for yourself.” 

Yes, yes. Getting upset now wouldn’t help anyone. Not Akira, not Yusuke, not himself. 

And speaking of himself, and going back into himself, and stop spacing out for a second. Where were they? Yusuke has stopped and Goro was starting directly at  
a familiar redhead, who looked at him like Goro had grown a third head. 

“What you staring at?” Futaba asked, to Goro who was admitelly staring. 

“Futaba.” Futaba, Futaba, Futaba. Dear, sweet, precious Futaba. His little sister in law and the little thorn at his side who had gotten him into this mess in the first place. 

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s up?” 

“Futaba!” Goro was going to _kill _Futaba. For getting him into this mess, for giving him a box of porn, for making just the right scenario for him to get a small crush on Yusuke when he was already dating someone else. Also to cope with the fact that all of those things weren’t completely her fault and that Goro had to deal with those feelings like the adult his ID claimed he was. Those were the reasons he was going to kill her.

“Goro!” A voice, like an angel’s, rang through the con, past the stands of doujinshi and mountains of sweaty otaku. 

“Akira!” Goro, who had never heard a voice more beautiful to this day, not even Yusuke’s— _stop thinking about him, damn it!_— could compare. 

“Goro, don’t kill Futaba.” 

“Okay!”_ If I could keep hearing your voice forever I would refrain from murder until the end of time. _

_And I did._

“Good.” Was the last thing Akira said before the wind was knocked off him by Goro closing the distance between them and trapping him into a tight hug. God, Goro _needed _this.

Akira’s arms wrapped around Goro and they stood there together, not saying anything for a while, just feeling each other’s presence. 

“I’ve missed you.” Goro broke the silence.

“I’ve missed you too, honey.” Akira smiled and— _fuck!— _his smile was so precious. Especially when it was dedicated to Goro, and Goro alone. 

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Goro couldn’t even manage to sound annoyed, he was smiling too much. He buried his face further into the crook of Akira’s neck and muttered a muffled “You were gone for way too long.” 

Akira heard him, he always did “I’m sorry, I won’t leave you again.” He patted Goro’s head softly and let his hands run through messy hair “Next time I’ll let you take out the leash.” Akira joked softly.

“Maybe I will.” Goro chuckled back.

“Hey, what was that about killing me?” Futaba rudely interrupted their moment. With a completely unreasonable question, nonetheless, even more rude.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” replied Akira, still holding Goro close, “Goro just had that look in his eyes when he’s about to murder someone.”

Goro’s heart skipped a beat._ He knows me so well!_

“Don’t kill Futaba,” Yusuke added unhelpfully, “she’s paying half the rent next year.”

“I already said I wasn’t going to!” Goro protested. 

“I know babe, I’m proud of you.” said Akira. _Ah, yes, the boyfriend-brand validation dopamine. _

“In any case!” Futaba interrupted them out of a mix of nervousness— for murder talk— and boredom— for her brothers being cheesy— “What are we doing now? We are all together so we should try something fun!”

“I’m all out of money for activities, sadly. Goro treated me to lunch because I had no more money to spend.” Yusuke said.

“Oh, you’re spending time with Yusuke?” Akira smiled at Yusuke then at Goro— his expression so soft, so forgiving—; it made Goro’s chest fill with dread. 

He felt a stab of guilt so strong it made him recoil. _Spending time with, getting close to, developing feelings for him, you cheating who-_ “Yes, turns out Kitagawa-kun’s company is quite enjoyable.” 

“I’m glad.” Yusuke smiled. It twisted the blade of guilt that was already stuck into Goro’s chest. “I also had a delightful time with you, Akechi-kun.” Goro was suffering. _Why does he have to look at me like that? Like he wants me, too?_

Goro was sure that Akira noticed how uncomfortable he was. He could almost feel Akira reading his mind and discovering how wrong and unfaithful his feelings were. He didn’t know if he’d rather talk about this with Akira and get to a mutually beneficial agreement— like a healthy adult would— or pray for the possibility of spontaneous combustion as an easy way out of the situation— like the kid he still felt like. The second option sounded much more tempting and, frankly, plausible.

He was so fucked up. Akira gave him everything and Goro responded by feeling this way for someone else. Ugh, was he really that easy? 

_You’re making a bigger deal of this than it needs to be. _His metaphorical voice of reason shaped as Akira’s voice resonated.

_I don’t care, I suck. _He told it. 

“Hey! Earth to Goro!” Futaba shook him “We have plans already! Are you in or out?” 

“In what?” Goro was getting really fucking tired of his self-deprecating inner monologue being interrupted every time. It was easier and less irritating to hate himself when he didn’t have any friends. 

Yusuke— the traitor, the friend, the crush— answered: “Futaba wishes to go to a seiyuu event she’s been waiting for and I’m going with her, Akira just asked if you would rather stay here or go to the event.” 

Ah, he got distracted in the middle of the conversation, again. He ought to stop doing that. “Uh- what do you want to do Akira?” 

“Whatever you want, Goro.” He answered. How thoughtful of him, but the polar opposite of what Goro wanted to hear. 

“You’ve grown accustomed to do whatever people tell you. What do _you_ want to do?” The words Akira muttered when he first regained consciousness two years ago resonated. Akira had never been the judgmental type, had he? Things would turn out alright.

“I want-” he looked at Yusuke, holding Futaba’s hand like he’d held Goro’s. 

It hurt to watch, a pang of betrayal in his chest, but he understood now. “to go outside with you, Akira, we have to talk.” 

Just when the words came out of his mouth did Goro realize that maybe that wasn’t the best phrasing, it sounded way more serious than it actually was. The whole deal was, really, and Goro didn’t mean to be so dramatic about something that was probably normal, but he didn’t want to lie to Akira ever— or ever again, anyway. Akira tensed at the phrasing, too, but tried his best to regain his composure. “Ah, if that’s what you want.” 

It’s not that Goro _wanted_ to, he most definitely would rather get eaten by an eldritch beast then digested for the rest of eternity. But it was something he felt he had to do, for his sake, for Akira’s and their relationship’s. Not in the bad sense, of course— Akira would never force him to do anything he felt was unnecessary— but he was just so done with hiding his feelings, with lying to everyone to protect himself. Finding the perfect balance between being dishonest and over-sharing had been a pain; Goro still hadn’t mastered the art of having an honest and healthy communication with his boyfriend, but he was trying.

“Ohoh~? A lover’s quarrel?” Futaba asked, smugly. “Don’t break up with Akira now, Makoto is driving all of us and I don’t want it to be awkward.”

Akira twitched slightly, looked over at Goro. 

“It’s not that!” Goro hurried and stopped himself short from saying_ “Never that. But I am afraid of Akira breaking up with me.” _

Being so unconfident in his romantic relationship wasn’t sexy, after all, and Akira was right there. 

“I’m glad, then.” Akira chuckled awkwardly “Does going outside sound good to you?” 

Goro nodded. 

“Then let us be off.” Said Yusuke, “I wish you the best of luck, we’ll meet again at the entrance in two hours.” 

“I’ll call you we are done.” Futaba said to Akira, “Good luck!” 

And with that they went away, Futaba and Yusuke holding hands and heading off to wherever they wanted. Goro felt a part of himself go with Yusuke, too.

“So…” Akira was still standing there “outside, you say?” 

_Stop spacing out, damn it! _“Uh, yes, that would be good.”

“What are you going to do with that, though?” Akira pointed at the box near Goro’s feet “Do you want me to carry it? Futaba said I shouldn’t let you leave it here even if you insist. What even is it?”

“That’s-” 

_I forgot about Futaba’s box._

_Fuck. _

“-so that’s what happened! Man, that’s fucking hilarious.” Akira was amused at the story, Goro was not. 

“It is not.”

“It kind of is. Christ, I mean-” He wasn’t being subtle at all, not even for Goro’s pride “you had to carry it through the whole Con? And you didn’t buy anything? Man you’re-”

“If you want to call me an idiot then go ahead and don’t be subtle about it, I know it’s dumb.”

“Nah, that wasn’t what I was going to say,” he looked fondly at Goro and put an arm over his shoulder, getting him closer, making Goro’s heart beat fast, making him feel how fast Akira’s heart was beating, too “you’re a good in-law to her, that’s what I wanted to say. You’re kind.” 

“It’s still really dumb. And very rude of her.”

“Oh, yeah, no joke.” He chuckled. “You have to get back to Futaba, get your revenge. C’mon, think of something and I promise I’ll help you out.” 

Goro couldn’t help but chuckle back. “Would you be willing to follow along my murder plans?” 

“Anything for you, my liege.” Akira took back his arm— Goro missed it immediately— and did the closest thing he could to an exaggerated vow while sitting. From time to time he liked to remember their respective themes in their Phantom Thieves days, to treat Goro like royalty and act as the gentleman thief who stole the prince’s heart. Goro thought it was sweet in a very embarrassing way; Akira was embarrassing in general but Goro liked him like that. 

“Fine then, you’re going to poison her.” He thought about Snow White and her Apple. The other seven ex-Thieves could be the seven dwarfs and Kana-chan could be the Prince Charming. “Put poison in her coffee and finish her off for offending your prince.”

Akira was shaken by the idea “Do you want me to disgrace an innocent cup of coffee in your name? Isn’t that going too far? Would you really be so monstrous?” His grand hand gestures were attracting the attention of the people who had nothing better to do aside from watching them being in love with disgust. Goro didn’t care, let them see if they want, he was smiling too much to focus on anyone else.

But it was in Akechi Goro’s nature to be mean, even a little jealous, but just as a tease.“Who do you love more, Akira, me or coffee?” He asked, borderline sensually, getting as close to Akira as he could to try and get him to betray his other one true love.

“Woah, Goro Akechi.” Akira deadpanned “That’s so abusive of you to ask. I can’t believe you just did that. Making me decide between the two beings I need to live. Not cool.” 

“What about oxygen? Or food?” 

“Don’t need those, just you.” 

“And coffee?”

“And coffee.” 

Goro was overly aware of the people around him, but it wasn’t for the fear of making a scene he would have busted a lung laughing. He chuckled, though, loudly, at Akira’s shenanigans. “I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.” 

Goro felt good, then, a certain calmness he only felt in the precious moments when Akira made him forget about the bad stuff. He treasured every second spent out of the hell that had been his childhood and teenage years, but going back to them was so easy, too easy, in fact, that he found himself doing it often when he was alone. 

Goro was aware Akira couldn’t be the Prince Charming to save him from his own mind, but at least, they could be witches together, away from the world and only understood by one another, withstanding the past and the vestiges of it.

All good things must come to an end, though. “Hey, Goro, what did you want to talk about?” 

Oh, yeah, that’s why they were here, Goro didn’t want to do this right now “Can I say I forgot and pray to any god that might be out there that you believe me?”

“You can, but deep down in my heart I will know there is something that is bothering you and that will break my heart.” 

“How so?”

“I will look at you and go ‘man, Goro has something that is bothering him and won’t tell me, what a bad boyfriend I am that I’m so spineless I can’t even get him to spill the beans’. I will suffer so much, Goro, I will get grey hairs at age 20, I will literally die of old age at 25.”

Goro felt a little bad about that. As much as Akira was joking right now, Goro knew Akira was genuinely upset at Goro’s lack of trust, even if Goro was going to ‘spill the beans’ eventually. If anyone was going to die of stress at a young age it would be him for all the thoughts that went through his head, mostly senseless, exaggerated and anxiety-inducing. But Akira, too, was prone to worrying a lot about the small stuff, Goro had to look out for that as well. They both were kind of a mess but they made it work, somewhat. 

“Do I get your laptop if you die?” He asked, instead of being dramatic. 

“Nah, Futaba gets my laptop,” Akira thought about the inheritance he would leave behind for a second, “you get Morgana.”

“I don’t want Morgana, he stinks and won’t let us have sex on Wednesdays.” Wednesday was the one day everyone else was too busy to take care of Morgana, who thought the greatest use of his time was to stalk Akira and preventing him from ever doing anything fun. Akira was asleep at 9pm sharp and Goro never got to have any fun beyond cuddling. It wasn’t as if they were fucking like rabbits but Goro was incredibly annoyed at that single prohibition.

Akira was bothered by it too, Goro knew, but he took everything more lightly. “I can’t believe you’re talking about your own son like that.”

“Maybe I never wanted a son!” Goro exclaimed dramatically, failing at the previous objective to not be dramatic. The effect of watching so many soap operas with Akira late at night and an inherent fascination for theatrics, he guessed.

Akira followed along, because if anyone was more fond of drama than Goro, it was Akira “And you’re telling me this now? After all these years? That you didn’t want a child?” 

“Yeah, our child is kind of a pain.” Morgana _was,_ admittedly, a pain. 

“That’s fair.” Akira conceded.

They fell into a comfortable silence once again, Goro wished he could have this forever. No such luck. 

“I still need you to tell me what’s bothering you, Goro,” Akira said.

It was ridiculous, the way it made him feel so paralyzed was childish, a child who has learned to lie to the adults his whole life and found himself unable to be honest when it mattered. Goro hated it. 

“I don’t wanna.” His traitorous mouth, more connected to his heart than his mind, muttered. 

Akira sighed, it reminded Goro of the lingering fear of Akira running out of patience, “I can’t force you. But healthy communication and shit, remember? Be honest.”_ Be honest. _But it was so difficult. 

Goro nuzzled into Akira’s embrace “Promise you won’t get mad?” 

He couldn’t see Akira’s expression, but he could hear him speak, tired: “I can’t, but I’ll try.” Goro didn’t want to think too hard about that, nor did he want to look at Akira’s face. He focused on Akira’s heartbeat. 

_Thud, thud, thud. _

“I think I like Yusuke.” Goro’s breath hitched. 

_Thud, thud, thud._

“Is that it?” 

_Thud, thud, thud. _

Well, that was uneventful “What do you mean ‘is that it’?”

“Dude, why would that be a bad thing? I think it’s great you have friends!” Akira sounded confused, even if slightly annoyed. Not betrayed at all by Goro’s confession. Which might have been a good sign? Goro couldn’t tell just yet.

“No I mean- ugh, why are you making this difficult?” Akira wasn’t dumb, Goro knew, and was the person in this world who understood Goro the best, the one who had seen every side of him— even the embarrassing, violent, disgusting ones— and had stuck around. He was quick-witted and it he should have understood what Goro had meant unless he wasn’t in some kind of denial.

_Some kind of denial, _that’s it. It would be necessary to be clear.

“I don’t understand?” Akira looked… uncomfortable? Confused? Goro couldn’t decipher his expression, too busy trying not to look as pathetic as he felt, praying his face wasn’t as red or his eyes as puffy. 

“I think I- I had a crush on Yusuke. Have? Currently? I’m not sure I-” how do you even begin to explain? Facts, Goro decided, he’d start by the facts “I found him in the crowd and we hung out for a while, he held my hand and helped me out when I got lost. You weren’t there, but he was and he gave me water and he’s the polar opposite of a human heather but that’s fine because it was hot anyway. I wanted to kiss him when-”_ Be honest, _but it didn’t mean_ vomit every word that comes to mind shut up Goro you’re making him uncomfortable look at him he’s paralyzed. _

Akira was unreadable. The light reflected on his fake glasses seemed to cover his eyes entirely, Goro feared what hid within. Rejection, mostly, being left alone. Thinking that both lies and honesty lead to all-consuming loneliness, that he never managed to find the right path and his little and comfortable illusion would be shattered just as easily as the last one.

Akira wasn’t looking at him “Ah, that’s fine.” It was clearly not.

“It is clearly not! I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry.” Well, mission of identifying where the line lies between being truthful with your partner and just making a mess: disastrously failed. We’ll get ‘em next time. 

“Goro.” Akira said his name,_ Akira said his name and he sighed and he was grabbing his septum and Goro had really screwed up this time. _“What do you want me to say? I like Yusuke and I think he’s a great friend, I think that if you like him you should go for it. I’m-” Goro understood then: Akira was _afraid _“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I won’t do it again. Though I… I understand why you’d feel that way, Yusuke’s great. _Yusuke’s great!_” 

Akira’s voice had cracked. _Akira’s voice had cracked. _

Ah… Goro hadn’t realized how much he had fucked up until then. What his behind Akira’s glasses wasn’t an angry look, not even a frustrated one; Akira swallowed, his eyes were watery at the corners. He looked at Goro like he was an apparition who had come to announce his early death in 8 more days. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you, I’m really glad Yusuke was.” Akira was being completely honest about that, Goro knew, but he wasn’t happy at all. Akira breathed heavily and tried to calm himself down, Goro almost could hear him going _one, two, three, four, _in his head. Akira liked to count to calm himself down, Goro thought about not-so-distant nights where Akira had been bordering on having a panic attack, when Goro had counted alongside him.

“I don’t want to break up with you.” The words came out effortlessly from his mouth. For Goro, wanting to stay with Akira was as true as saying that the earth was round, the Metaverse was real, and Starbucks was fake coffee. 

“You don’t?” Akira asked, and the genuine concern, the genuine consideration of_ Goro wanting to break up with him_ was peak comedy. 

_I spent all day, all life, worried that one day you’ll wake up and don’t want me anymore, and you… you feel the same, _what was Goro wanted to say, but he saw his plans frustrated by the laughter threatening to break free from his chest, _god, the irony is so- _“Of course not! Never!”

Akira was relieved, albeit a tad confused. “Ah, I’m glad then.” He swallowed again, still doubtful. “In any case: I wasn’t there for you, I feel terrible about that.” A pause, regret. “Was Yusuke good?”

It bothered Goro a little how much Akira spoke like Yusuke was already his lover who was planning on beheading Akira in his sleep to steal all his precious jewels, the next morning Goro would wear a black nightgown and lament his widowed status accompanied by a massive amount of money left by the deceased; however, it hurt in equal part how much Akira wasn’t bothered by the possibility of it. “He was kind to me,” Goro admitted, chose his words carefully, “but he wasn’t you.”

Akira scoffed. “Isn’t that a good thing?” 

Goro recognized that tone, he was way too familiar with it: the ironic self-deprecation of being bad at coping with a throbbingly low self-esteem. 

“Akira.” Goro wanted to look Akira face-to-face, really look at him, no lies or assumptions or nerve-wracking feeling of one misstep breaking their whole relationship; he took Akira’s glasses from his face and put them aside. “I swear in the name of any loser book you own, more loser than any Star Wars books I could ever own; that I will never,_ ever _leave your side, even less for someone else.” 

Akira was stunned, his glasses-less eyes helpless and glassy as Goro held his face, his expression, his self; in place; Goro continued: “You are the most important person in my life, have been for a very long time. It’s been so long since I’ve felt alone because even then, when we were just strangers meeting casually in the same coffee shop, you being next to me was enough.” Saying Goro was embarrassed would be an understatement, but Akira _needed_ to know, “You were the first person to look at me with kindness in a very long time, and the only one who has tried to understand me, nobody can take that away from me. From you. I can’t-” Goro took a deep breath— _I love you I love you I love you—_ “I can’t imagine myself without you, it hurts to try.” _With my entire, deep, sincere, true me. _

Goro stood in silence, refusing to break eye contact. He was being honest, he was being honest, and it was messy and he wanted to throw up and he swore his heart was going to jump out of his chest and hide once again in that dark place it had been in less than five years ago, but it didn’t, Goro wouldn’t let it, not again. Akira was going to be so damn proud. 

Speaking of which, Akira looked more embarrassed than proud, which is only slightly better than him looking, say, angry or disappointed. “Goro.”

“Yes?” _I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up I fuck- _Goro said with as much confidence as he could muster. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!_

Against all odds, however, and against his own blushing face, Akira smiled. “You’re cute.”

“Ah.”

“And I love you.”

“Mhm.”

“But we are in public right now.”

“I see.”

“And everyone is looking at us.”

“Oh.”

Everyone’s eyes focused on them, or they had focused before but Goro noticed just now that Akira pointed it out. 

_How embarrassing. _But in a joyful, giggly tone. 

_How embarrassing._ But Goro wanted nothing more than to laugh and kiss his boyfriend’s lips, eyelids, forehead, neck, ears, nape, chest, dic-

_Ping! _

“Oh, Futaba and Yusuke are done.” Akira grabbed his phone from his pocket, his head still in Goro’s hands. Akira read the messages, typed something with one hand— because he was supporting himself with the other— and handed the phone to Goro. “We are meeting at the entrance. I just have to call Makoto.”

>   
Imouto: show’s over
> 
> Imouto: was wonderful *q* 
> 
> Shujinko: Great^^
> 
> Shujinko: We meeting at the entrance then?
> 
> Imouto: yaya! 
> 
> Imouto: also look at this (๑╹ω╹๑ )
> 
> Imouto: FeathermanFigma.jpg
> 
> Imouto: Yusuke won a raffle! (*≧∀≦*)How awesome is that? 
> 
> Imouto: i helped a little, of course ☆〜（ゝ。∂）
> 
> Imouto: i wanted Goro to participate but he didn’t want to come u_u
> 
> Imouto: and i couldnt tell him cuz the raffle was supposed to be a surprise hsbsjddkkxkxkdkdk good thing i have my sources uwu
> 
> Imouto: i even gave him the direction and everything! he never arrived tho :/
> 
> Imouto: oh well, i AM a merciful god 
> 
> Imouto: and i owe him a favor;;; 
> 
> Imouto: tell him i have a surprise for him (*⁰▿⁰*)  


Goro’s chest felt warm. If he could define it, the most similar word to what he felt right now would be loved.

By then, the crowd had forgotten about them and gone back to minding their own business, some exceptions kept peeking but, as a former detective celebrity, Goro didn’t mind that much. This moment was special, even if others couldn’t see it, it wasn’t _theirs,_ this was Goro’s and Akira’s. Nobody could taint that. 

“You ruined the surprise.” Goro faked disappointment— failed miserably, he was smiling too much— and handed Akira his phone. 

“Pretend to be surprised for her?” Akira asked.

“Try again.” Goro said mischievously. 

“Pretend to be surprised… for me?”

Goro hugged his boyfriend and his heart did a certain jump when he felt Akira’s hand rest atop of his head. “That could work.” 

Akira patted him lightly. “Good.” He dialed Makoto like that, comfortable and cozy with his boyfriend by his side. Goro could have fallen asleep to the peaceful ring of waiting for Makoto to pick up.

_Show-off. _A voice in his head whispered.

_Yeah. _His own voice.__

Epilogue: 

Makoto arrived 15 minutes late with Starbucks and a hundred apologies. 

“I swear I wanted to come early but there was _this guy_” she clenches her fists “in front of me who just wouldn’t move! I tried honking at him but he just got mad and went _even slower”_ her knuckles were already more white than any paper “and then every stop sign and traffic light wanted to get in my way and I-” 

Makoto rambles on, but Goro wasn’t really listening, too focused on his hand in Akira’s waist and the pressing need for nap to pay attention to Makoto’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad driving experience. 

_Only if she hadn’t minded the traffic lights. _

Futaba said something that made Makoto blush and Yusuke laugh, she proceeded to make that small embarrassed sigh—identical to Sae’s— to try to calm herself down and told everyone to get inside the car. 

Makoto and Futaba front; Goro, Akira, Yusuke behind. A good order, if you asked Goro’s dozing off next to his boyfriend self. 

“By the way, what did you all buy?” Makoto asked when they were halfway there. 

Yusuke has bought a ton of posters and manga from his favorite authors that he would have talked about at length if Futaba hadn’t interrupted him to fangirl about all the figmas, nendos and other toys she had bought. Akira had liked some hardcover horror manga collection and some clothes he was definitely going to wear when the temperature was higher. 

Makoto didn’t look at Goro, she was looking at the road like a good girl. “And what did you buy, Goro? I saw you with a box, is that yours?” 

Futaba did a complete 180 in her seat and looked at Goro completely, absolutely and entirely inconspicuously. Makoto wouldn’t ever notice, no doubt, no sir, not Futaba’s whole spinning body. 

Goro tried to think of a clever lie, something that would make Makoto go away and not activate her detective instincts and need to check what Goro was doing. 

In Makoto’s defense, he had been rendered a threat to— most of all—himself and others about a two years ago. In Goro’s defense that diagnosis had been cancelled after a month of him promising he wouldn’t do anything stupid again. 

_Quick! Think of something! _Goro hadn’t had the time to think of a clever lie, and while Akira’s presence was comforting and appreciated, it was also sort of… dumbing._ Say it’s razors! _

_No, don’t. _

Akira, thank the lord almighty for Akira, was there. “That’s mine too, actually.” 

“Oh? And what is it?” Makoto, expression hidden by the fact that she was driving, replied in a curious tone. 

Deadpan. “A shit ton of gay manga.” 

Stunned. “Ah.” 

Futaba smiled at them both. Pervert who got away with it smile. She was so proud of herself, Goro would have been annoyed if he didn’t like her so much. 

_You’re a good in-law, Goro._

The comfortable— albeit awkward now, at least from Makoto’s part— silence returned to the car. Makoto was driving in silence, Yusuke was napping and Futaba was playing something on her phone, probably congratulating herself internally for pulling off such a meticulous plan, Goro was in that blissful place between consciousness and dream where the best ideas ever are born and where nothing ever goes wrong because he’s comfortable and being lulled to sleep by the soft sway of the moving car. 

_I should dye my hair… black… _

Akira moved around, just a bit, not enough to wake Goro up. 

_No… but then people will think me and Akira are… brothers…_

“Hey, Goro, hey.” He shuffles a little more and whispered something muffled by Goro’s train of thought. 

_But didn’t that one lady, the one at the cashier that one time… she said we looked like brothers… _

“Goro, I was thinking, about what you said when we were waiting for the event to end.” He started. 

_That’s so dumb… we don’t even look similar._

Goro tried to keep up, because he loved him and didn’t want to leave him hanging. 

“What about it?” A part of him, not the one currently having the great idea, but other, more calm part of Goro answered. 

_I should anyway. I can do whatever I want with my hair._

“I think that if you and Yusuke kissed…” 

_Kisses? Would Akira like my black hair? If Futaba left her natural hair color we could make a trio. _

“Mhm?” Sleepy, not-processing-stuff-right-now Goro muttered. 

_Yusuke with black hair, though… emo, but hot. _

“I think that I would be into it.” 

_Hot! _

Goro jolted awake. “CALLED IT!” 

_/fin./_

**Author's Note:**

> *i didn’t know where to put it but when Goro tried to call Akira, Akira wasn’t in a place with service. It was mere bad luck.
> 
> Ah, first Fic (this long and that I’m not THAT embarrases to publish). Hope I’m not late to Sleuth Sunday...
> 
> I’m going to kill HTML with a rock. Follow me on twitter @MagicoQueque


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